


I Only Have You (and Only You)

by 108am



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Cheating, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Fights, Gift Fic, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, LiveJournal Prompt, M/M, Memory Loss, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Reconciliation, Travel, Wanderlust, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1623557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/108am/pseuds/108am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaejoong has selective memory loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Only Have You (and Only You)

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://kacts.livejournal.com/profile)[**kacts**](http://kacts.livejournal.com/) fill for [](http://equalises.livejournal.com/profile)[**equalises**](http://equalises.livejournal.com/), using the prompt _second chances_. Looped Dalmatian's [Lost in Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPYBPQ8eJb4) while I wrote this, drawing a little bit of inspiration from the lyrics.

(Jaejoong only remembered fragments of the past, and most of them were just bad memories that never once made it into oblivion. Perhaps there were some good memories, but in any case, they were probably tarnished by the bad ones.)

 

 

They were somewhere in Seoul. Jaejoong was running through the bustling street, drinking a cup of coffee as he weaved through the crowd. He was late for something (a business appointment, perhaps? Whatever, it didn’t matter.). So he was running, darting past each person, narrowly avoiding a messy collision, and just when he had thought he was successful, he found himself rushing into a man’s arms.

It was like a bad romantic comedy movie, he remembered thinking as he watched his coffee fly through the air in slow motion, making its sluggish descent until the cup landed on a nearby woman’s head. A lengthy string of profanity quickly left the victim’s mouth, causing Jaejoong to nervously look around for a place to hide.

No such luck. Truth be told, Jaejoong wasn’t exactly the luckiest person in the word, or so he thought.

The man he had crashed into quickly apologized to the woman, calming her instantly with a charming smile and a sincere twinkle in his eye. When she left, the man turned his attention back to Jaejoong, a slight tickled look was on his face.

“You owe me,” he had said, twinkling eyes seemingly assaulting Jaejoong until he was left in an awestruck daze. He patted Jaejoong’s on the shoulder, wondering amusedly to himself about how slender Jaejoong was, admitting distractedly that he had almost mistaken him for a woman.

“A wo-woman?” Jaejoong remembered being offended.

The other man smiled, grabbing Jaejoong’s chin and planting a kiss on the bewildered man’s lips. “You look cute when you’re angry.”

 

 

(Jaejoong didn’t remember much after that. He remembered the other man saying his name was Jung Yunho, and he assumed somewhere along the way they became lovers. Thinking back, it was like a bad romantic comedy. How sickening.)

 

 

They were in Yunho’s apartment. There was a heat wave outside, and Jaejoong was lying shirtless on Yunho’s couch, lamenting about how his skin felt like they were being peeled apart. He rolled over, draping an arm off the couch. He pouted at Yunho, making little pathetic whimpers that he hoped the other man would recognize as his demand for him to do something to assuage his torment.

Yunho sighed. He knew those needy noises very well. Too well.

While Jaejoong had a tendency to bring out his bratty side in front of him, Yunho was also inclined to reveal his hidden mischievous self to the smaller man. He walked into his kitchen, opening the freezer—a slight contented sigh escaped when he felt the cool blast of air hitting his sweaty face—and he searched for a tray of ice cubes. Finding his desired object, he carried the entire tray back into the living room, stopping in front of the seemingly unconscious man.

If Jaejoong had his eyes opened, he could have seen the smirk and known of the oncoming attack. It wasn’t until he felt painful—yet oddly satisfying—small blocks of ice landing on his bare back in quick succession that stirred him out of his heat-induced stupor.

“ _Mean!_ ” He declared, but his anger quickly disappeared when he felt a handful of ice being rubbed in gentle circles on his back. Jaejoong let out little pleased moans, and when the last of the ice melted away, he could feel Yunho’s rough fingers walking across his back until they were at the nape of his neck.

“Yun—”

 

 

(Jaejoong knew what happened afterwards. He would never kiss and tell, but he had a bad reputation of blabbing about his sex life, especially if it was amazing. And this _was_ amazing. Jaejoong remembered telling someone the next day, only to have Yunho ostracized him afterwards.)

 

 

They were at the zoo, looking at elephants as Jaejoong sang happily, “Ele ele elephants!”

He looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care. There were elephants after all, and nothing could have brought him down.

“You look like a big man-child.”

“Mean, mean, and more mean. Remind me again, why we’re together.”

Yunho waved a stuffed medium-sized elephant in front of Jaejoong’s face, only to have the other man seizing it with glee.

“You’re forgiven.”

 

 

(Jaejoong named the elephant YunJae.)

 

 

Jaejoong was in a dark room, gasping and panting as he felt a man thrusting into him. He couldn’t control the little delighted mewling that stumbled out of his mouth. He felt so good, but something in the bottom of his stomach was telling him that he was making a mistake—a very grave one.

But it was still so hard to care when he was feeling so good. He was only human after all. Mistakes were bound to happen, right?

“Jaejoong, you’re such a slut.”

More moans fell out of his mouth while his hands scrambled for something—anything—to grasp onto. He remembered pleading for more, desperately asking the stranger to not stop. Jaejoong knew he was weak, but he couldn’t help how flawed he was by nature.

“Yunho won’t mind if I borrow you, right?” The stranger laughed, slapping Jaejoong lightly on the ass.

“Yun—who? M-more, more! _Don’t stop!_ ”

 

 

(Temptation knocked on his door, and Jaejoong was too weak to turn him away. Just once more. Maybe a few more times and then Jaejoong would quit. Yunho didn’t need to know. As long as he didn’t know, he won’t get hurt.)

 

 

Jaejoong was alone in Yunho’s dark apartment. He couldn’t remember why.

 

 

(He remembered yelling and door slamming. Was it his fault? Yunho looked very hurt and angry. Why couldn’t he remember anything that led up to this?)

 

 

He was alone in Tokyo, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, listening into his cell phone and crying as passersby gave him cold judging stares. What was their problem? Haven’t they ever seen someone have an emotional breakdown in public before?

 

 

(Yunho was on the other end. His voice cracked. He must have been trying to control his tears.)

 

 

He was in New Zealand, smiling and laughing again. He liked being in a new place with a whole new life, and having no one knowing about his past.

 

 

(He sort of missed Yunho, but Jaejoong knew the other man was still very angry at him. At least he still had YunJae to keep him company.)

 

 

Spain was nice, but on those cool nights when stars were twinkling so brightly, he remembered the starry crisp nights of Seoul, and nuzzling close enough to Yunho that he could smell the sweet body wash the other man used just an hour ago.

 

 

(Was this sadness? Nostalgia? He remembered too many things and yet nothing at all. He needed to stop thinking. At least…YunJae still smelled like Yunho.)

 

 

Cold New York brought back a memory that was thought to have been lost. He was in Central Park watching a young couple having a fight about the man’s infidelity, and listening to the woman, Jaejoong remembered Yunho saying something similar:

“What is wrong with you? Does it make you feel good to sleep with all of those people? Am I not enough? Am I not _good enough?_ Tell me, tell me, tell me, shut up, shut up, _shut the hell up_ , you lying bastard!”

 

 

(Jaejoong had never known why he was so promiscuous, so he remembered not saying anything at all when Yunho left. Perhaps Yunho was angrier that he was silent instead of hiding and lying about his unfaithfulness. Was it wrong to love many people at the same time?)

 

 

Jaejoong bounced from state to state, gathering shards of the painful memories through other similar encounters and observations. He relived his promiscuous times, choosing insentiently strangers that had similar attributes as Yunho.

He would do. He had Yunho’s hairstyle. Or him, he also had a twinkle in his eye. Maybe even her, she liked the same book as Yunho. Him, her, them, anyone, just anyone at all would be fine.

But…

But he was getting tired. Similar did not equal the real thing.

 

 

(YunJae was losing Yunho’s scent, and all other essences associated with that man.)

 

 

Jaejoong was in Hawaii. For a place that looked like paradise, something was still missing.

 

 

(S-sorry. This word was so foreign, but Jaejoong remembered some people being happy to hear it. Wait, he also remembered people being upset about it. He didn’t understand the stigma that came with this word, but would Yunho like to hear it anyway?)

 

 

He was back in Seoul, but he felt like he was on Mars instead. Everything looked so different, he looked different. Something was different. Something was—

 

 

(Something was wrong. Jaejoong knew there was something wrong with him. YunJae looked so worn from so many nights of tight hugs as his nightmares chased after him. YunJae was too old to fight his bad dreams, and he was too weak to fight his unforgiving reality.)

 

 

He was in Yunho’s apartment again. Jaejoong knew he was gone for a long period, but time seemed to have left Yunho’s apartment alone.

“H-h…hi.” Why was it so hard to even say that one word? “Hi Yunho.”

Yunho nodded. He looked tired, and old, and…fearful? Was he scared of something? Jaejoong didn’t understand, and his uncertainty showed when he glanced sideway, biting into his bottom lip until he felt blood trickling down his chin.

“Don’t do that.” Yunho’s hands were still rough as ever, Jaejoong noticed when he felt him cupping his chin and wiping away the blood with his thumb. He paused momentarily; desperate eyes scrutinized Jaejoong’s face. His voice came out in a hollow whisper, “You’re so thin. Why are you so thin? You’re not taking care of yourself. You’re so—so fragile, so…so pitiful…”

Hmm? Was he? Jaejoong didn’t understand anything Yunho was saying. “What happened to the twinkle?”

Yunho looked horrified, but he quickly regained his composure. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Twinkle. The twinkle in your eye. Oh! I’ve also met someone in America that had that same twinkle too. His name was…was Keith? Seth? Nich—Nicholas. Nick—”

Yunho looked sad, so, so sad.

“Nicky. It was Nicky, he had that twinkle. He was nice.”

Yunho nodded slightly, patting Jaejoong’s back just like how he used to do. “I’m sure he was.”

Jaejoong puffed up his cheeks. “But he didn’t have your hair, or your eyes, or these rough hands, and he didn’t make—Yunho?”

Jaejoong felt Yunho pulling him into his arms, holding him so tightly he felt like he was going to be crushed to death. His heart stopped when Yunho let out a soft whisper that could have easily went unheard: “Don’t leave again.”

 

 

(Yunho didn’t smell like…like…why couldn’t he remember Yunho’s scent anymore?)

 

 

He was in Yunho’s arms, listening to the rapidly beating heart mingled with their cries. Memories, memories, memories, why was it so hard to hold onto them?

 

 

(Jaejoong only had one wish in the whole wide world: to never forget Yunho.)

 

 

“Don’t leave.”

They were in Yunho’s bed, all tangled up in blanket and clothes.

Jaejoong looked up sleepily; a loud yawn escaped. He shrugged, dropping his head back down on Yunho’s chest. He could hear the steady heartbeat, such a pretty sound. “But I’m sick.”

Yunho’s hand smoothed Jaejoong’s bed hair. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“There’s something wrong with me, right?”

Yunho continued smoothing the disarrayed hair. He then let out a soft affirmative sigh, followed by Jaejoong’s own echo of his assertion. They didn’t speak again.

 

 

(Jaejoong didn’t mind staying. In fact, he wanted to stay, but he did not trust his flawed nature and ill mind to keep him from hurting Yunho again.)

 

 

They were in Seoul, Tokyo, New York City, Berlin, Rome, and everywhere else Jaejoong wanted to be at.

 

 

(Yunho had promise to chase after Jaejoong, but all Jaejoong had ever wanted was just to keep the memories they have together.)

 

 

They were in a hotel room, watching the twinkling lights of Paris at night.

“I might…slip up…again…” Jaejoong was playing with YunJae’s large ears, making the occasional silly faces at the silent elephant.

“I know.”

Jaejoong grabbed the trunk, waving it gently from side to side. “I’m…sorry if that happens again.”

“I know.”

Jaejoong held YunJae in front of his face, cocking his head slightly. His disposition drooped. “What is wrong with me?”

Yunho kissed the top of Jaejoong’s head, pulling it close to his lower abdomen. “Nothing.”

 

 

(Yunho was bad at lying, but it was the thought that counted.)

 

 

“I’ll always love you.”

“I know.”

“Even if…even if…I can’t…”

“I know.”

“I…I…I…only want…”

“I know.”

They were together today, tomorrow, and always.


End file.
